Close Drabblings Of The Third Kind
by norielit
Summary: A series of one-shots following the life of the Autobot Perceptor and his ability to confuse... just about everyone. Semi-AU. Various pairings.
1. And Let There Be Four

Drabble-ish thingy. It's likely that there's more to come.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. Seriously - there's no way I'd be able to keep such clear lines between the 'good' guys and the 'bad' guys. But then... that could be the fanfic author in me speaking.

Breem - appr. 8.3 min. For those few who don't know.

* * *

"What do you mean _four_??"

"Springer, really. This is not a big deal."

"Not a big deal. Elita, do you even remember how dangerous the triple changer process is? How _unstable_ it is? There is no way you can tell me that this is not something to worry about!"

"You don't even know who the fourth changer is yet!"

"I'm not sure I want to."

"… What? You _don't want to know_?"

"All considering, probably not. Undoubtedly something went wrong and you realized that this mech is dangerous, which is why I'm standing here talking to you right now."

Silence reigned. Elita-One was genuinely baffled. "Okay, I give. What are you going on about now?"

"I doubt that you decided to inform me of the existence of a _fourth triple changer_ simply because you realized I might want to know. Something had to happen to cause you to come to me now. And I really don't feel like cleaning up."

Laughter.

"Oh no, it's nothing like that. Actually, I just thought you might like some background information on that medic you were so impressed with."

A swift picture of a red mech, standing guard over a downed Whirl's form, shoulder cannon pointed skywards in a decidingly threatening pose.

"Please don't tell me you're saying he's a triple changer."

"I'm afraid so."

"Well… That explains a lot of things. And I thought you said he wasn't a medic?"

"Oh, he's not. But so few of us have any sort of medical training… And, quite frankly, he's good at what he does."

A breem passes.

"Huh. So… A fourth triple changer. Well, that does explain a lot. So what are his forms?"

"Surely you know at least one of them."

"Nope. He never saw fit to use either on field."

"Odd. I would have thought he would have used his tank form, at least. I can understand why he would avoid the microscope form in the middle of the battlefield, but his tank for would have been useful."

"Maybe I'll ask him. Once I get over the shock at least."

"Are you really that surprised?"

"Are you kidding? This isn't the first encounter we've had with Perceptor – kids brilliant, but I never thought he'd be a triple changer."


	2. Story Telling

Short, short, short. It's so short. Oh well... I had fun with it. Anyway. Actually, this bunny came from the Transformers Bunny Farm over at livejournal. So did the other one, actually. And it's likely that the rest will as well. Seriously - that place is awesome. Anyway, just felt the need to give credit where credit is do. The bunny for this one was

**has been talking while taking a walk suddenly notices he's lost one of his listeners **"What happened to Perceptor?"**  
**"Oh, he got distracted by something shiny a ways back and stopped to examine it."**  
**"... You'd think with all the time he spends on those projects of his, that he would have a longer attention span."

So, yeah. I just suddenly had this vision of Kup... And everyone else just kinda fit themselves in. shrugs

Disclaimer: Honestly? As much fun as I find fanfiction, I don't think I'd like to actually own Transformers. Too much work. So, no, I don't own it.

It was a well-known fact amongst the Autobots that, when it came to storytelling, nobody was better than Kup. It had taken him hundreds of vorns to gather the stories, and even more to learn the art of painting a picture with words. Over time, more stories were added and Kup grew more than adept at telling stories. Which is why, while walking through the city, he grew extremely puzzled upon reaching the realization that, while he had started out with four listeners, only three remained.

"What happened to Perceptor?"

Simply question really. But the answer – that was baffling. And ever entertaining since the reply came from Sunstreaker.

"Oh, he got distracted by something shiny a ways back and stopped to examine it."

"Something… shiny."

A brief, considering silence.

"…You'd think with all the time he spends on those projects of his, that he would have a longer attention span." Surely there had to be more to it than that. Surely. Thankfully, Cliffjumper took pity on the 'senior citizen' of the Autobots troops.

"Actually, he's a bit absent-minded. I think Wheeljack put it best once when he said that, and I quote, Perceptor has the most amazing ability to ignore everybody when involved with a project, yet still distract himself upon discovering something else, often completely unrelated to his previous interest."

"I'm shocked you can remember all of that."

"I only do because Brawn didn't stop laughing about it for nearly a week."

"Ahh, that makes sense." A nod, and Sunstreaker and Cliffjumper turned back to Kup, who wasn't sure what to be confused about more. Perceptor's alleged tendencies, or the fact that he had just witnessed Sunstreaker and Cliffjumper holding a fairly civil conversation – without mediators. Thankfully, Jazz, undoubtly recognizing the signs, decided to distract him before his logic sensors crashed.

"It's not a big deal really. We can pick him up on the way back. We'll have to listen to him prattle, but then he'll disappear into his lab and the only way we'll know he's still alive is from Wheeljack." Never mind – apparently Jazz found this all amusing.

Perhaps… it simply didn't bear thinking about. Yeah.


	3. Forever Purple

Hah! Perceptor is actually in this one! The adopted bunny for this one was, basically, that Perceptor was one of the Twins silent, unkown partners. The prank is mine. And, again, Ironhide and Mirage just kinda popped up. Because I didn't want to use any of the normal people.

Not too sure I did a good job with Perceptor, but I tried. Really, I did. Oh, and this one has a title! Two, actually...

Disclaimer: Do I really have to do this every chapter? Ah well, I guess I'll survive. Here's a surprise - I don't own Tranformers!

**On Thoughts And Ideas**

or

_Forever Purple_

* * *

Overall, the day had not been an odd one for the Autobot army. Megatron's last attack was recent enough that another wouldn't come soon, yet far enough into the past that some members – including but not limited to Sideswipe – had found themselves experiencing that dreadful affliction which, ultimately, spelled d-o-o-m for all involved. But that wasn't odd. Actually, that was fairly normal. What was odd was that, rather than setting up a prank, Sideswipe seemed content with annoying Perceptor. Or… that's what everyone thought was going on.

"Awww, come on Perce!! It won't be that bad!"

"I am not going to acquiesce to such a childish demand. There are far more productive uses for the matter-holding cubicles formerly used for packaging."

"Matter-holding cubicles? Jeez, just call them boxes."

"Besides… there are far more beneficial courses open for exploring." Sideswipe paused for a moment, translating his current 'partner's' vocabulary to the vernacular.

"You have a better idea?"

"Of course."

Less than two hours later, a rather bemused Ironhide was staring at a rather purple Mirage. After a moment, he decided that he was obligated to ask.

"Alright, what happened?"

"Sideswipe. I… think that he dyed me."

"Dyed you? Ah don't think paint and dye are the same thing..."

"No, see – I triggered a trap. The air was suddenly full of smoke, and despite the fact that I've gotten rid of all the paint, I'm still purple. My wires are purple. My _energon pump_ is purple. And I'm stuck here."

"How did he do that?"

"I… really haven't a clue."

Ah, yes. There's the prank needed to affirm the day's status as 'not odd'. Sideswipe was forced to help Ratchet in the medbay for two day – two very traumatic days, mind you. Perceptor, of course, got off scot-free, if only because nobody realized that it was his expertise that allowed for the prank. Ironhide remained baffled. Ratchet had to talk an extremely amused Perceptor into finding an antidote. And Mirage discovered that, not only did the 'smoke bomb' turn him purple, but it also turned everything he touched purple.

Oh, and Spike gleefully nicknamed him 'Midas'. Mirage has yet to live that down.


	4. Further, Deeper

Actually, I think this one technically has more words than any of my other ones... Hmm.

Ah well. This one has Dion in it!! Not much, but a little. I have a huge theory on the Dion Controversy, which you see a little of here, but I've yet to type it out or anything. Anyway. This one is more serious than the others. The (adopted) bunny is the very first line of the... ficlit? drabble? one-shot? I can't really decide what these fall under... And I really need to figure out how to work my lj. I'm seriously regretting ignoring blogs all these years.

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. This is good, because I'm sure the serious would be utterly random and make no sense if I did.

Warnings: Lots of vague pronoun references towards the end that I can't seem to find another way to word. What could be taken as a subtle implication towards Prowl/Jazz. Seriously, if you know a way to cure my pronoun references... I will worship you. Maybe not as a god or anything, but certainly as an awesome, amazing person.

* * *

Perceptor sees further into reality than others do. He can see the way words warp, meanings shifting with tone and poster and context. He can see the way even the most unfriendly members of the Autobot troops unconsciously hover worriedly over their comrades. He doesn't often think about the things he sees, but sometimes they are just… too difficult to ignore.

Like the way that Jazz nearly flinches when someone insults Prowl, as though the insult were directed at the saboteur himself. Or the way Bumblebee scoots just a tiny bit closer to Cliffjumper, Brawn, and any other minibot present when scared or upset. Or how, almost without thought, the Aerialbots, Protectobots, and Dinobots explain things to each other, sharing the knowledge they learn day by day. The silent protectiveness everyone feels towards the humans who are so small and shockingly similar to the Cybertronians, capable of remarkable good and terrifying evil. Little things that detail the people who make up the Autobot's elite.

But everything isn't so little. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, who sometimes seem more scared of their fellow Autobots than the Decepticons. The way nobody seems to care enough to get closer to them, or the other outcasts, like Mirage. How, sometimes, when close to snapping, Ratchet takes to staring at the sky for hours on end, never moving a muscle. The facts of life aboard the Ark that are so obvious, so normal, that everyone tends to ignore them – as the humans put it, not seeing the forest for the trees. Or, in this case, not seeing the trees for the forest.

And a few things which go beyond important, things that he doesn't think he should see. The silent mech who follows Optimus, intangible, who catches him looking and introduces himself as 'Dion'. Mournful eyes that belong to everybody and nobody, bearing witness to the death of their race as hundreds die in the war while the survives are forced to kill their sparks off, bit by bit just to survive another day. Details of their race and their planet and their war that he doesn't have enough background information to understand.

These are the things Perceptor sees, a reality with so many nuances and curves and shadows that, sometimes, he wonders if what he's seeing is real at all. These and a million other things that he isn't really sure he wants to see, has the right to see. So he tries to ignore it, most of the time, but every once in a while he can't. Those are the times that he glances just a little bit deeper into the world he lives in, the reality that wraps itself around him.

And it scares him. He doesn't tell anyone. Once, though, he sees Dion approach Optimus, seemingly whispering into his ears. Optimus seems more cautious with him after that, more concerned, as though he knows. Ratchet and Ironhide pick up on their Prime's worries, and follow his lead, though they don't know what the cause is. From there, most everyone is more careful with him. And he wonders, vaguely, what he could learn if he looked at their actions. But he isn't sure he wants to know, even if, in this, he isn't worried that it might not be something he should know.


	5. Surprise, Surprise

Again, a bunny from the bunny farm. Was originally supposed to involve the Twins and Perceptor being captured, with Perce seducing his way out. But Springer refused to allow it, so, you get this instead.

Title: Surprise, Surprise  
Series: Close Drabblings Of The Third Kind (05/??)  
Characters: Sideswipe, Springer, Perceptor, Others  
Pairings: SpringerxPerceptor, a bit of vague SunstreakerxPerceptor  
Summary: Sideswipe had never thought that Perceptor could be _seductive._ A meeting with the Wreckers proves him wrong.  
Disclaimer: I no own. This makes me sad. But fanfiction makes me happy, so it all works out in the end.

* * *

This was, Sideswipe decided, one of the most disturbing things he had ever seen. Since arriving on Earth, Perceptor had gained a reputation – one as an absent-minded, naïve, slightly oblivious scientist. Sideswipe was one of the few who knew of the microscope's more mischevious side, through the two's dealings in pranks, but even he didn't know what to think of _this_.

The reactions of the Ark's crew to the news that the Wreckers were 'stopping in for a visit' had been widely varied. There were a few in awe, some scared, others confused – mainly those who had been asleep during the four million years during which the Wreckers had bee building their reputation- and most worried. Perceptor had been singled out from the masses by being the only one who was joyful. Oh, others were _excited, _but Perceptor had practically been glowing with happy feelings since the crew had been informed. Sideswipe thinks he might understand now, but he still isn't sure how to take this.

Of course, it would be helpful if the other Wreckers weren't treating it like a completely normal occurance. Sandstorm seemed to be holding a discussion with Smokescreen – normally Sideswipe would have joined them, but his processor hurt too much right now to deal with all the evasive comments sure to abound. Topspin had long ago been hauled off by First Aid and Swoop, who wanted advice on the best way to deal with field repairs, as that was the Wrecker's medic's specialty. Whirl seemed to be having and animated discussion with – of all mechs – Bumblebee. A few others were watching the pair, unsure as to whether such an interaction was good for the yellow special ops agent, or if they had the right to pull him away. And though Sideswipe wasn't the only one watching Perceptor, none of the Wreckers showed any interest in the red Autobot's actions. Except Springer.

Springer who seemed to be trying to ignore the microscope – Springer who seemed to be failing. Horribly. Because Perceptor's hands were running almost-idly over the triple-changers back, talking softly in words that Sideswipe doesn't understand. Somehow, though, he doubts that the meaning of the words is important, not nearly as much as the tone. And Springer's optics are nearly completely dark now. So, no, the red Lamborgini really has no clue what to think of this.

Only then, TwinTwist seems to take pity on Prime's crew. Or at least, as close to pity as he can get while still being this amused. "Springer, would you stop trying to ignore him and just get a room?"

The silence that follows _that_ proclamation is stunning. Briefly, Springer seems to be considering attacking Twist, but then Perceptor trails one hand down the green mech's arm. Suddenly Springer fragging _growls_, grabs the microscope, and drags him out of the rec room. And then Roadbuster laughs.

"One of these days Springer is going to realize that, when it comes to seduction, Perceptor will always be the master."

And the truly terrifying thing about it? Sideswipe can feel Sunstreaker considering the fact that Perceptor had looked more than a little appealing.


	6. And You Wonder

There... will probably be a sequel of some sort to this. Detailing the reasons behind Percepors... ah, reaction to events. And possible elaborating ont the Inferno (and, by extension, Red Alert) bit. Things you need to know for this one: I've based this on the thought that the season two 'bots were sent to Earth by Elita One. Which means that Perceptor _was not around_ when the Dinobots were created. He arrived afterwards, so he only really knows about the current circumstances. And he's not happy with what he finds.

The bunny for this was adopted from the **tfbunnyfarm**. It was thirty in the most recent post from **kirinsaga**, saying that the Dinobots often bring things they discover to Perceptor for explaining (then it evolved, but hey...) - hence the mention of the tree. Not something they've ever seen before, but I highly doubt anyone has ever thought to explain what the trees _were _to them. It's fairly serious, and much longer than any of the other chapters (actually, it's about the same length as my two Dion one-shots...), but I think I'm just going to leave it in the 'Close Drabblings' series for simplicities sake. After all, Optimus really is quite confused.

Anyway, this left me feeling fairly emotionally drained, so I'm going to go sleepy now. Will respond to any comments upon waking.

Title: And You Wonder (Close Drabblings Of The Third Kind, 06/??)  
Characters: Perceptor, Optimus Prime, small bit of Wheeljack, small bit of Grimlock, mention of other Dinobots, Elita-One and Ratchet, unspecified others.  
Summary: Perceptors been around just long enough to get settled when he decides to channel his inner medic and give Prime the chewing out of his lifetime, on the behalf of the Dinobots.  
Disclaimer: I don't own these guys or the series. This issue would not have to be addressed in fanfiction if I did.

* * *

Prime cautiously eyed the group sitting in the middle of the rec room. While it was a normal gathering area for most mechs, the Dinobots rarely visited, Perceptor himself only dropping by when one of the others dragged him there out of concern for the microscopes health. So Optimus was fairly certain that the Dinobots and Perceptor were not simply 'hanging out' as the humans put it.

This was only reinforced through their seating arrangement. Perceptor sat in a chair at one of the many table, normal enough. The Dinobots, however, were on the floor, two sitting, two sprawling, and Snarl making a fairly successful attempt at both. The five mechs had arranged themselves in a half-circle in front of Perceptor, apparently to optimize their listening skills.

And the final clue that something was definitely not-normal was the data pads that lay in front of the normally rampaging five. Oh, and the tree Grimlock was holding. But the tree could be rationalized – the data pads really were much more abnormal.

Perceptor's hands weaved through the air, seemingly painting a picture that, most likely, was being detailed by his voice. Prime listened briefly and was surprised to find that Perceptor actually seemed to be explaining what the tree was to the Dinobots. And the Dinobots were taking notes, though occasionally one would hold up his hand in a wait-just-a-breem gesture, before turning to his brothers. The five would have a short discussion, which normally resulted in a question of some sort being presented to an increasingly pleased scientist.

Optimus watched the six for nearly three hours before their session ended, during which many different mechs passed through, nearly all stopping to gawk. Fireflight wondered in at one point, joining the Dinobots on the floor for a while before being called away by Silverbolt for patrol, though the jet didn't seem to find the lecture half as engrossing as the dinosaurs.

Finally, Perceptor seemed to decide that everything he could explain in regards to the plant had been explained – indeed, the discussion had gone from cells, to photosynthesis, to the environment, touched briefly on global warming, and included an in-depth discussion on the evolution theory, as well as the concept of survival of the fittest, from it's place in nature to it's place in society as well as the moral issues that were connected to it.

Perceptor had not spoken in quite as convoluted a way as he normally did, but his words had still been fairly difficult to understand, and Prime suspected that this was far from the first time this scenario had occurred, only away from prying eyes.

Once the Dinobots had exited, though they had exchanged worried glances at his extended vigil and Grimlock had apparently been unwilling to leave, Prime approached the recently-arrived scientist. When Elita-One had sent him more Autobots to supplement his own forces, he hadn't been sure what to expect. Most of them he had only known briefly, and they were far from the same mechs they had been when the Arc had first entered their four million year stasis.

Perceptor, however, was a complete mystery to him, he now realized. He hadn't met the scientist before the ill-fated trip and crash-landing, and he'd yet to make any attempt to befriend the others aboard the Arc. Optimus couldn't help his curiosity, as the Dinobots were notoriously hard to handle, yet the scientist seemed to have no difficulty.

Surprisingly, Perceptor spoke first, and his tone was decidingly cold. "Is there some way I can be of aid to you, Commander?" Optimus frowned, unsure of what to think at the tone used in his first real interaction with this mech.

"Not really, I was simply hoping to talk to you…" In reality, the Prime was unsure what he was looking to learn from this conversation, but he felt it was important.

"Hmm… My name _is_ Perceptor, sir. There's a reason you want to talk to me, and it has to do with the Dinobots."

Optimus froze, surprised at the clipped, harsh tone taken by the other. "Well, yes…" He began, only to be cut off.

"I really don't see why I should tell you anything, sir." Prime didn't know what to make of this, but he did realize one thing – Perceptor had a look about him right now that reminded Optimus of his Chief Medical Officer about to launch into a rant about the stupidity of one of his patients. He could only hope that there was a mere misunderstanding causing this anger to emanate from one of his newest recruits, that he could work out the problem, and that this mech wouldn't be half as good at yelling as Ratchet. Prime suspected that only the last one would prove true, and that was only because he doubted that anyone would ever be able to match the medic's wrathful rants.

"I… Don't really understand what's going on."

"No, I didn't suspect you did." Oh yes, this was going to turn ugly quickly. A few other mechs were trickling in as the shift changed, meaning this entire thing would have no hope of blowing over smoothly.

"Perhaps you could explain it to me then." Please, please don't ostracize yourself too much, his mind begged, already close to hopeless for

"I suppose I could do that, but first I must question your desire to hear what I have to say." That gave the Prime pause, as he considered exactly how horrible the scientist's impression must be for him to doubt whether or not Optimus cared for his soldiers.

"I would truly like to know why you are so upset. But, perhaps we ought to move somewhere more private?" He accompanied these words with a sweeping gesture towards the various mechs currently lounging in the rec room.

"No, if we are going to hold this discussion, I believe it best that there be others to bear witness. Besides, this isn't something that concerns only you. And you want to know why I am angry…?"

"Yes, Perceptor, I would." Briefly, the Autobot Commander considered continuing, but he wasn't sure he wanted to interrupt the rant he could practically feel blistering underneath the microscope's skin.

"Well, I'd say that you already know that my anger is directly related to the Dinobots. How old are they, sir?" Of all the questions he could have been posed, Prime really didn't like this one, though he wasn't yet sure why his spark had a horrible, twisting feeling.

"About six earth months, if a recall."

"If you recall." Perceptor paused, and Optimus wondered how it was possible for such a small mech to _flare_, and then continued. "It's actually closer to seven and a half, if you'll _recall_. Seven and a half months old – and fighting on a battlefield. That I can handle – they were made for it. It's understandable – a bit reprehensible, but this is war, some things must be excused. What can _not_ be excused is your treatment of them."

The odd, stone like feeling was growing, and Optimus was genuinely beginning to think that he might have made a mistake somewhere, though he wasn't sure what it was yet. He didn't suppose it mattered, since Perceptor seemed intent on informing him of it.

"You treat them as though they were completely unintelligent, incapable of coherent though. As though they are just as bad as the Decepticons themselves. They are _not _Decepticons, Prime! They are intelligent, growing _younglings_. Younglings who are still at the age where they are _just now learning_ what the world is! Nobody is born knowing everything about the world around them – everyone _must be taught_!" At this point, the entire room was silent and watching the scientist, many with looks of guilt beginning to flicker across their face plates, though one of the mechs who had arrived with Perceptor – Inferno – had leaned back in his chair with a look on his face saying that he felt this talk was long over-due.

"You've ignored them, made them feel threatened, provided them with none of the care or emotional support they need – left them to raise themselves and each other, with their only form of advice being two mechs who are so overworked they barely have time for recharge, much less raise five younglings to be productive members of a team that has made it _quite_ clear that they wouldn't mourn their deaths." As though the situation was bad enough, as Prime had a startling truth shoved harshly in his face, one the aforementioned two mechs – Wheeljack, actually – walked in, frowning, clearly drawn by the words that Optimus now realized had reached a very large decibel.

If the red microscope even noticed, he obviously didn't care. "And you ask me why I'm angry. When they don't know the most basic of information about themselves – things they should have been told as soon as onlined in order to ensure their survival. When Grimlock was _slagging scared_ of leaving me alone with you, because he thought you would hurt me for interacting with them, for helping them. Is it any wonder that they're rebellious? Is it?"

And then Prime realized that the other actually wanted an answer, but he found that there wasn't one.

"No, Perceptor, it isn't. But… I think you need to be quiet now." Wheeljack. Wheeljack who was his long-time friend. Wheeljack who was watching him warily, as though he might attack. Wheeljack who almost looked scared, for Perceptor and the Dinobots and probably himself and Ratchet. Optimus knew he should say something here, but he wasn't sure that there was anything he _could _say.

The microscope seemed to have run out of steam as well, sending a final glare at Prime in particular, and the entire room in general, though he did seem to ignore Inferno, as he was lead from the room.

The Autobot Commander looked around at his troops and realized that he wasn't the only one feeling guilt from this. Wasn't the only one left speechless as his actions were force-feed to him. And as he met the eyes of his men, he knew that this was one event that would leave a lasting mark on his army. He could only hope they would all come out the better for it – and that there was some way to make amends to all those hurt by his thoughtless actions.


	7. Lost Bets

Title: Lost Bets **or** _I Can't Believe You  
_Series: Close Drabblings Of The Third Kind (07/??)  
Characters: Springer, Perceptor  
Pairings: SpringerxPerceptor  
Summary: Springer made a mistake. Perceptor is Not Happy.  
Author's Note: Bunny originated on teh farms. It might have been bred by cows, cause this is crack. I saw the bunny and thought, well, that explains everything! So, ya know, it's all kirinsaga's fault. Really.

* * *

If it were possible, Springer would be blushing right now. Of course, he'd also be running, but he knew that would only make his lover more upset. Or, it would if there was any way that were possible, and at the moment Springer didn't think it was.

"I'm…Sorry?" His voice was close to squeaking, due to the pressure on his voice box from the conflicting orders being given to it. Part of his brain was screaming at him that attempting to explain would be a _very bad idea_ while the other part was equally certain that it was his only chance for survival.

"Sorry, he says. Sorry does not even _cover_ how you should be feeling right now." Nope, Perceptor definitely wasn't in a forgiving mood. Great.

"Look, it was a toss-up between you and Hightower. One of you had to go, so I… made a bet."

"A bet which, if probability proved true, you would lose. And guess what, Springer?" Oh _slag_. Springer realized that there was a very good chance that he would be sleeping in his own quarters until Perceptor left. And maybe for a while when he returned, depending on how bad this turned out.

"You lost. And now I'm required to accompany the others on an _extended trip_ to Earth, where I will be a part of _Optimus Prime's_ troops! I've never even met the mech, Springer!" Ah, and there was the biggest problem. Perceptor had not met Prime, and therefore would not trust him. Probably would fear him, even. Sometimes, Springer really worried about his lover, but knew that as long as the war went on, the fear was best left alone. At least until it started to put him in danger, which it hadn't yet. So, now then, a way to comfort his fellow triple-changer...

"Ah, don't worry about that. Prime wasn't so bad… Not that I really had much contact with him." A scathing glare told him that his argument really was that weak.

"He's Elita One's bonded, Perce. I doubt you really have something to worry about." And, really, that was the most he could offer. Because, as the head of the Wreckers, Springer couldn't claim to be completely sane himself. But it seemed to calm the scientist somewhat, even if he still looked… well, miffed.

"Even so, I'm not happy with you losing me in a bet, Springer."


	8. Once Upon A Time

Dear kirin-saga: You just had to ask, didn't you? Okay, so you didn't actually ask, but you did 'wonder'. Anyway, here's the explanation for why my Perceptor muse is so... jumpy.

Note: Changed a few spellings mistakes. -blushes-

Title: Unnamed (I really need one for this chapter, too...)  
Characters: Perceptor, Unnamed Original Femme, Unnamed Others  
Summary: Perceptor's past isn't all that pretty, but then, neither is his present. And his future isn't looking that great, either, actually.  
Disclaimer: Me no own. -pouts-

* * *

This world was not what it used to be, and Perceptor's okay with that.

_Taunting voices, pounding away outside the door. Trying to hide, to get away like all the others, but there's nowhere left to go._

They were in the middle of a war that had basically eaten their war alive, and Perceptor couldn't help but feel thankful.

_"There's one of them." Harsh hands, grabbing him, shaking him roughly. "It's one of the tanks. What should we do with the thing?"_

_"Who cares, his creators abandoned him for a reason, obviously." Fear, horror. The dark part of his mind telling him that he'd have to kill them to protect himself. Laughter as he begins wailing, crying for help he knows he shouldn't need._

Before long, the Autobot's could lose the tentative hold they still held on Cybertron, the last of their ever so small forces could be destroyed, and Perceptor had never felt safer.

_The big ones –notsafe,shouldbesafebutnot – shoved him roughly towards something dark and menacing. "Go on. We need to know what it does to metal, so get in." Whimpering, whining, trying to find one kind pair of optics as he struggled. Nothing, nobody, so run. Run and hide, grow and fight. Don't acknowledge fear, whispered the voice he ignored so resolutely. Except for now. Now he needed it. So he screams, and they weren't expecting that (he's a tank, a warrior, shouldn't show fear, they sa ) and disappears._

He'd seen mechs and femmes die, pumps stuttering to a stop under his hands, when all he needed was just another astrosecond. Yet Perceptor's happy here, for the first time.

_Later, after, he's on the streets. People look at him oddly, approach him with worried optics, frown when he flinches, gasp when they see his make. Then disappear, scared of him (but not as scared as he is, no, never that scared.) He scrounges, stealing energon and datapads, trying so so hard to understand what they say. All to often has to drop them and run, because he doesn't have the strength to carry them. Because they say someone like him doesn't deserve the chance to learn._

Watched as they all try to maintain some semblance of sanity in this hellhole, as they fight the one of the worst kinds of war – the guerilla kind. But Perceptor regrets nothing.

_"What are you doing, child?" He starts. Glances upwards at a femme, one who's lack of symbols tell her status as a neutral in the brewing war (other's say it's not a war, but that voice tells him it is, and the voice tends to be right about these things.) Try to skitter away, but she grabs his arm and he starts to panic but he really doesn't want to fight… "You could really use some cleaning up. I can't promise to help you, but I can promise to try."_

_Lies, screams the voice, and he agrees, 'cause nobody would want him. He knows that, and can see in her eyes that she doesn't want him either._

_"I'm working on a project. We need test subjects." Abrubtly, he jerks away, but her grip is strong, stronger than he is right now (and here the voice works itself into a frenzy, because he's a fighter and this should not be happening.) "You might be able to get another alternate mode. How does that sound? Would you like the chance to be something other than a war machine?"_

He feels guilty about it, about how easily he welcomes this life style. How willing he is to hide himself from others, because he knows he shouldn't have to. But Perceptor tries to brush it off. Like always.

_It won't work, because he'll always be a warrior, down to his most basic programming, he knows this because he knows that the voice is integral to himself. But he knows that he can't survive this way, not unless he joins the Decepticons (No!! screams the voice, they're bad, they'll hurt you, they're worse than any of the others!) And, really, he doesn't think he has much of a choice. So he goes with her, and hopes it doesn't turn out as bad as everything else._

Because he needs this war. He doesn't like it, but he needs this war. After all, there's never been a stable triple-changer, and he certainly isn't the first.

* * *

Okay, so this requires a little bit of explaining. I'm working on the fanon here that Perceptor's a triple-changer, who's third form is a tank. Now, if this is true, than why doesn't he use it? After all, it's fairly handy in a war situation. But he never does use his tank form, so that leads to the thought that he either really, really doesn't like it or is scared of other's reaction (or he's a Decepticon spy, but let's ignore that one, shall we?)

Now, if one of those is true, than that leads to the question as to why he agreed to becoming a triple-changer in the first place. Unless, of course, one assumes that his first form was the _tank_ and he didn't get the microscope form until he went through the triple-changer process. Which, naturally, leads to this story. Kinda dark, and he doesn't actually _confuse_ anyone, but hey.

Oh, and for those of you who don't catch it, the 'voice' mentioned is his battle-programming. Cause that might have been a little vague.


	9. Initially

Here we have an event mentioned briefly way back in the very first chapter! This, people, is Perceptor's very first meeting with the Wreckers! cheers Not much to say, other than the fact that this bunny has actually been in my head since I first began this series.

Title: Close Drabblings Of The Third Kind (09/??)  
Characters: Perceptor, Topspin, Springer, Whirl  
Pairings: Fledgling SpringerxPerceptor  
Summary: Perceptor's detatchment gets decimated. Oh, and he meets the Wreckers.  
Disclaimer: Don't own, is annoyed with having to say this every chapter.  
Author's Note: No, I really can't write Perceptor and the Wreckers without throwing in a hint at SpringerxPerceptor. I tried - I failed. End of story.

* * *

Flashes, booms, debris flying everywhere – complete and utter chaos, to use the cliché. This was where the Wreckers were most at home, fighting for their lives on the battlefield. It wasn't an ideal situation, as they were working with another team (and Primus but the others weren't fairing well, half of them were dead already and there wasn't much the Wreckers could _do._) Still, all of their numbers were alive and fighting, though Broadside was under Topspin's care for the moment, until the medic either decided the triple changer could rejoin the fray.

But it wasn't bad, not really. The possibility that this could be their last battle was ever-present, but, somehow, they were nearly confident in their ability to survive today. Only then Whirl screamed – none of them saw what had done the damage, but it was bad, bad enough that Topspin, on the other side of the battlefield actually stopped in his repairs to stare in shock at the helicopter, or the shredded remains, as he simply stopped moving forwards and started crashing, already entering stasis lock.

Promptly the Wreckers' medic leapt to his feet, intent on reaching his charge – Broadside could wait. Broadside would survive. Whirl might not.

The Seekers fell upon him with a shrill, high-pitched shriek of anger, obviously having identified him as the doctor and intent on keeping him from the helicopter.

* * *

Perceptor blasted forward when he saw the mech falling from the air, energon screaming in his veins, feeling more alive than he had in a long, long time. Within instants he was at the side of the battered helicopter, beginning repairs almost before he'd stopped moving. The wounds were terrible, gaping holes with sparking wires, entire pieces of armor completely destroyed by the attack. He would have to be evacuated, there was no way around that, but the scientist wasn't sure who would be doing the evacuation, since that seemed to be one of this mech's duties.

And he didn't have the supplies to even keep him in one piece, not with his field kit. He cursed, angrily, and glanced over his shoulder, looking for any other members of his detachment, in order to get help. But they weren't there – actually, a few of them were, but only the dead ones and he can't think about them right now. Even they are too far away to be of help to him here, because he needs something to stop the energon loss, and he can't leave long enough to get something. Instead he makes a move that he knows will make everyone consider him crazy, despite the fact that he really doesn't have any other options here. Pulling out his laser cutter, he opens the armor on his legs, revealing a pair of treads that is used by the vehicles on this planet, and begins to cut it into pieces of appropriate length, ignoring the energon that was now pouring from his self-inflicted wounds.

The ground suddenly shakes, nearly causing him to cause a large amount of damage to his wound, but he ignores it, choosing instead to turn to the stasis-locked mech beside him. Swiftly he begins to slap the treads over the wounds, welding them over, until a proper repair could be done. Even though he couldn't really repair the helicopter here, he could at least ensure no more damage was done.

A cackling laugh caused him to jerk his head upwards, towards the now-circling Seekers. Taking stock of the situation, Perceptor noted a battle taking place fairly close to him and the downed mech – the earlier source of rumbling. Silently, he stood, and prepared to defend his patient.

* * *

Springer was approaching Topspin, who had been up for two straight orns in the med bay, ignoring his own health – again – in preference for aiding the injured. He wasn't the only one either, though that was odd – rarely had the triple changer seen another mech as dedicated to others as Topspin. In his hands he carried two cubes of energon – one for Topspin, and one for the red mech who had saved Whirl's live, also known as the other medic that refused to leave the med bay.

"Here. I doubt I can get either of you to actually rest, but I can at least ensure that you aren't running on empty." Topspin hardly spares him a glance, but the other looks him straight in the optics from surprise. Springer isn't sure what it is, but everything in the world seems to shift to focus on the medic. The feeling passes when the other hesitantly reaches for the cube, as though unused to this kind of attention. For a second, Springer wonders if this is one of 'those' moments, where everything in his life should change. Then he realizes that he's thinking like a femme, shrugs it off, and turns around to return to his own work, secure in the knowledge that all of his men – plus one – are safe.


	10. Some Wounds Refuse To Heal

This contains Perceptor, Hook, and Scrapper. Between those three, we have bitter feelings, old habits, and though it's not as obvious as I had hoped, cultural differences (aka, the differences between 'polite' behavior for Decepticons and 'polite' behavior for Autobots.) Oh, and look - I've made it to ten one-shots! Yay!

Title: Some Wounds Refuse To Heal  
Series: Close Drabblings Of The Third Kind (G1, 10/??)  
Characters: Perceptor, Hook, Scrapper  
Pairings: Past PerceptorxHook  
Summary: Hook and Perceptor meet again for the first time in a very long while.  
Author's Notes: This is the first time I've written Hook, and I'm really hoping that I didn't destroy his character too much. I know he's supposed to be more stuffy than he is in this, but I tried to make him respond properly to the circumstances. Tell me if I failed too badly, please - I need to know so I can fix it in any later fics.  
Disclaimer: I do not own the Transformers, in any way shape or form. And, no, I really can't come up with anything more creative right now.

* * *

With an Autobot's gun leveled at his head, things were not looking good for Hook. Normally he wouldn't feel worried – generally, he could take a lone Autobot, and the few that he couldn't would simply take him prisoner. But this one – well, there was a much larger danger level with him. Perceptor was a fighter, maybe not in the spark, but definitely in form; and no matter what the scientist said, Hook would never be able to feel comfortable with the idea of Perceptor as an _Autobot_.

The scientist regarded him silently, before, surprisingly offering up a greeting. The Constructicon wasn't sure what to think of this – after all, they were enemies now.

"Just because we no longer seek to improve the universe in the same manner, we should not be polite?" And Hook nearly sneered, because he knows Perceptor better than this.

"Don't try and play with me. I'll not fall for it again." Soft, hissing tone. No, not again.

And a near confused expression flits over the scientist's face, before he straightens, voiding any permission he might have given his thoughts to display themselves through his posture.

"Nothing that happens in war is a _game_, Hook." Perceptor's tone is soft, almost chiding, as though Hook has made some kind of mistake. And he knows that he hasn't, because he's still with the Decepticon's, and Perceptor… isn't. Just isn't.

"If you truly believed that, you would not treat it as such." Because, as far as Hook is concerned, Perceptor does. It's as though he doesn't realize the true import of his actions, and that enrages Hook. Hook believes – knows – that Perceptor is not half the Autobot as others seem to think he is. It's written in everything about him, from his alternate forms to his posture to his _fragging habits_.

He tenses as black - shining, gleaming black – hands rise and rest briefly on his cheek. He dares a glance at the microscope – tank, his mind screams, because that's the alt-form he's most familiar with – in shock. In what might have been betrayal, because how _dare_ this _bastard_touch him now? Now, vorns after he'd last taken that privilege, one that both before and after him had been reserved solely for his brothers, and thrown it in his face? As though it didn't even matter that Hook had trusted him?

The green and purple Decepticon let loose what could only be described as a scream of outrage and struck out blindly at the mech in front of him. His sub-routines are shutting down in the face of the powerful emotion, but as he stands there, sees the almost sorrowful look that the Autobot is trying to force back, Hook can't bring himself to hate the other mech. Part of him knows that he should call his brothers, that they should take the scientist back to Megatron – but if he does that then either his other Constructicons would kill him (from anger at the hurt the scientist had caused their brother) or their esteemed leader would (because that was the fate that traitors deserved, according to him.)

Instead, he turns, transforms, and pauses. Briefly, because he has to ask. It's almost an impulse, but he still has to ask – it's just something he has to do.

"Why won't you come back?"

Perceptor just looks at him, and looks oh so tired. As though this is a conversation he doesn't want to have, but is being forced to participate in anyway. Hook knows this isn't true, because Perceptor is stronger than him, because _Perceptor_ has the advantage here, and can end the conversation at any time he wants.

"Hook… I've moved on. I'm not a Decepticon anymore." And, another statement that Perceptor doesn't make – because, even now, he knows that Hook can't handle it – that Perceptor wasn't Hook's anymore, either.

And Hook flees.

* * *

Scrapper was waiting for him. This wasn't surprising – they were a gestalt, the others had surely felt his loss of control.

"What happened?" It's fairly obvious that Scrapper had been expecting him to be hurt, or something, but he's not and Scrapper's going to be angry because Hook should be _over_ this, but he's not, so it doesn't really matter…

He chooses to keep it simple. "Perceptor."

Surprisingly, while Scrapper did get angry, the rage wasn't directed at him, but at the absent triple changer.

"What did he _do_?"

"Nothing. Nothing new." The truth, because Perceptor hasn't changed that much. Despite his years as an Autobot, Perceptor was still Perceptor, and that stung

"It's just… He still acts like one of us, Scrapper. He goes out of his way not to threaten anyone unintentionally. He watches his words, as though saying the wrong thing could get him hurt, which it _won't_, because he's one of _them_. He moves quietly, so as not to risk disturbing anyone, but he still makes enough noise that he won't sneak-up on anyone accidentally. He still follows our code of conduct." Which wasn't much of a code though – more a series of understood rules of thumb and simple rules that are polite – a common-law amongst the Decepticon's, so to speak. Even most of what there was didn't extend to the battle – except for 'Don't Touch Someone Else's Bondmate, No Matter The Fraction.' And that one was more observed because nobody really wanted to face off against a slagged-off bondmate.

Scrapper doesn't say anything, just watches him, and wishes there were some way to change the past. And he can't.


	11. Of All The Things

Right, so... It's not what I meant to work on next, but the idea was just _there_ and I couldn't say no. If you don't understand this, go to youtube and type in 'Charlie The Unicorn'. And enjoy.

Oh, and please forgive me for the crack.

Title: Of All The Things...  
Series: Close Drapplings Of The Third Kind (11/??)  
Characters: Perceptor, Ratchet, Spike, An Egg  
Summary: Perceptor's oblivous, Ratchet's confused, and Spike's going to break his ribs soon.  
Author's Note: I have no clue where this came from. Or if Charlie The Unicorn was even around in the 80's. Oh well.  
Disclaimer: I own neither the Transformers nor Charlie The Unicorn. It's probably for the best.

* * *

"… Perceptor?" Ratchet stared at his long-time scientist friend in something that might have been shock in a human.

"Yes?" Perceptor, naturally, didn't notice.

"Is that an egg?" And the Chief Medical Officer of Prime's unit was using the tone that said he wasn't really sure that he believed he was actually asking this question.

"Yes." Again, the red Autobot didn't notice.

"… Where did you find an egg that big?"

"I used biological engineering to splice deoxyribonucleic acid in such a way as to create a creature of great mass, the beginning stage of it's life cycle just happens to be an egg." Or, in English, he'd engineered it. Genetically. Meaning, it would not likely be anything previously seen on this planet.

"You _created_ that thing?" The medic was long used to the odd things Wheeljack and Perceptor created when left alone, but this was a new one.

"Indeed."

"And… What, exactly, will it be when it hatches?" This time the tone wasn't so much shocked as resigned, as though he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to his question.

"A youngling." And the white emergency vehicle wondered vaguely if Perceptor was deliberately avoiding the question, or if he just wasn't paying attention. Most likely it was the latter, as the scientist seemed quite intent on monitering the status of the 'youngling'.

"A youngling of _what species_?"

"I believe the human term for it is a 'Liopleurodon'."

A second later and Spike had literally fallen out of his chair laughing.


End file.
